


Death of a Potions Master

by ms_katonic



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Humor, M/M, Mystery, Romance, Slash, Suspense, Threesome, gothic horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 22:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_katonic/pseuds/ms_katonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's finding the peace almost as hard as the war, what with discovering he might just be bisexual, Weasley women trying to pressure him into marriage, and most disturbing of all, that Snape might not be dead after all and that this particular piece of news is doing strange things to his head and his libido. When Lupin offers him somewhere to take sanctuary, Harry's only too pleased to take him up on it... but he might come to regret hiding out in Spinner's End.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death of a Potions Master

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://thescarletwoman.insanejournal.com/profile)[**thescarletwoman**](http://thescarletwoman.insanejournal.com/) asked for Snape/Lupin, Remus/Harry, Snape/Harry, threesomes are fine (so if you wish to combine any of the characters listed above, that's fine by me), voyeurism, half-clothed sex, masturbation, public sex, against-the-whatever (walls, pillars, you name it), topping-from-the-bottom, frottage, snogging. I was going to write an international manhunt for Snape, but it turned into a bit of a Poe-esque suspense chiller instead. Hope you like it! Thanks go out to Silverfox for catching the typos and formatting errors.

Lupin stared at Tonks's unmoving form, laid out with the rest of the dead, and tried to wonder if this was really grief he was feeling. _Should have been me. Would have been me too if Arthur hadn't dragged me out of the way of Rodolphus's hex._ He'd done the husbandly thing; screamed as he'd seen Bellatrix cut his wife down, tried to go after her but been held back by Arthur, narrowly avoiding death himself. Now however he was staring at his wife's body and wondering why he didn't feel anything. Not even relief.

~~~~~~

Harry made his way down from the Headmaster's Office to the Entrance Hall, Ron and Hermione having disappeared for a little private celebration, and really, who could blame them? He'd half a mind to track down Ginny and see what she was up for, but his heart wasn't really in it. There'd been too much death and destruction for Harry to really want to celebrate at the moment.

"Harry- I mean, Mr. Potter?" A woman's voice called to him, soft and yet with a tinge of authority to it. A voice he'd last heard whispering to him in a Death Eater camp.

He turned to see Narcissa Malfoy watching him from the doorway leading to the Great Hall, wringing her hands.

"Yes?" he sighed. The last thing he wanted to deal with was people asking for favours, but on the other hand she had saved his life back in the forest.

"I just wanted to know... if I could take my sister's body? You know, for burial?" she blurted out, her normal poise conspicuous by its absence. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen a Malfoy be anything less than articulate before. It was a rather novel experience.

"I'm not stopping you," he said roughly. It was more than Bellatrix deserved, and they both knew it. However, if it got her body out of his sight, he had no objections. As long as Narcissa didn't build her a hero's memorial, he didn't care.

Narcissa nodded her thanks and turned to go, but something seemed to hold her back. Hesitating, she glanced over her shoulder.

"Was it true what you said to the Dark Lord? About... about Severus? That he was working for Dumbledore all along?"

Harry nodded. To his surprise, Narcissa actually smiled.

"He is braver than I am, then. I only wish I had known; I could have helped. As it is, it is too late now." She sighed, turning back to face him. "Do you know where his body is?"

"In the Shrieking Shack. Why?"

"I owe him much, Harry," said Narcissa. "He did a lot for my family while he lived; as he has no living kin of his own, I would very much appreciate the opportunity to give him the burial he deserves."

Harry bit back a snide remark on exactly what sort of burial Snape deserved. He forced himself to remember that Snape had gone out of his way to keep him alive, after all.

"You're not going to bury him alongside Bellatrix, are you?" he asked. To his surprise, Narcissa burst out laughing. It was the most natural and human looking he'd ever seen her.

"Bury him alongside... oh good lord, no!" she gasped. "Neither of them would ever forgive me for that, I'm sure." She noticed Harry's blank astonishment. "Dear boy, they hated each other. It does happen, you know, even on the same side. No, no, I had a quiet and low-key memorial in one of the harder to find parts of the Manor's grounds planned for Bella and something a little more public for poor dear Severus. A memorial statue outside the gates, perhaps, or maybe something at Hogwarts? Or both; I'm open to suggestions."

Harry smiled, warming to Narcissa despite himself. "Hogwarts, I think. He'd like that."

"Hogwarts, then," said Narcissa. She extended a hand to him as Harry made his way downstairs. "Shall we go and retrieve his body? The necessary preservation spells need casting within 24 hours."

Harry took her arm and they made for the main door... at least until a voice called to them from behind.

"Harry... wait." It was Lupin. Harry let go of Narcissa, motioning for her to wait.

"Remus? Shouldn't you be with Tonks?"

"She's not going anywhere," Remus laughed bitterly. "But you two are. Where?"

"What business is it of yours, werew-" Narcissa began, but a glare from Harry silenced her.

"We're going to retrieve Sev- Snape's body," Harry told him. "Mrs. Malfoy's kindly agreed to pay for a memorial of some kind."

"Has she now?" Lupin raised an eyebrow. "In return for what, I might ask? I should point out that you won't be able to buy a pardon for your husband and son."

Narcissa flushed, and angry words would certainly have been exchanged had Harry not intervened... again.

"Will both of you leave it?" he snapped. "We've got a body to retrieve. Remus, Bellatrix is dead and we won. Mrs. Malfoy, Remus is a good man and a friend of mine. Can the two of you just let things drop and be civil to each other? Even if just for tonight."

Lupin hesitated, then shrugged. "I will if she will." Both he and Harry turned to Narcissa, who still looked anything but repentant. However, under pressure from both of them, she caved.

"Oh fine, fine," she sighed. "I can pretend I'm among gentlemen for one night. Mr. Lupin, would you care to join us?"

"If we weren't gentlemen, you'd be dead or worse by now," Lupin remarked. "But it'll do." Falling into place on Harry's other side, he walked outside with them.

Of course, Narcissa's veneer of civility did not extend to the tunnel under the Willow, which she made a point of complaining about loudly and vociferously at every chance she could get - when she wasn't shuddering at beetles or flinching away from spiders, that is. Not for the first time, Harry wondered why on earth he was doing this - falling in with a Malfoy for the sake of a man he'd hated when he was alive. He could feel Lupin's eyes on him, no doubt asking the very same question. Of course, Harry could ask Lupin the same thing - why was he going through all this for the man who'd got him fired? But then again, maybe he was just looking for a distraction from grieving for Tonks.

"Are we there yet?" Narcissa's imperious tones echoed down the tunnel. Harry suppressed a grin - she'd probably not _intended_ to sound like a petulant child after all. Still, he was beginning to see who Draco took after.

"It's just around this next bend," Lupin answered.

"You know that for sure, do you?" said Narcissa, shuddering as she brushed a spider's web out of the way.

"Believe me, I know every inch of this passageway far, far more intimately than you can even conceive," Lupin growled in her ear. Narcissa whimpered and quickened her pace until she was literally breathing down Harry's neck.

"Relax. We're nearly there," Harry grinned as, sure enough, they reached the trapdoor. "Er, I feel I should warn you, there might be a lot of blood."

"I have given birth and I have seen people die; believe me, Potter, blood does not frighten me. Enough of it has had to be cleaned out of the Manor's carpets this past year, after all." Narcissa's voice trailed off, and she spoke almost to herself, her mind clearly elsewhere.

_Probably spilled half of it_, Lupin thought to himself as he followed after them. He'd reached the foot of the ladder, eyes level with Narcissa's exquisitely made slippers, now covered with dirt and losing their sparkle, when she stopped.

"Potter? What is it? What's wrong?" she called up.

"It's Snape, he... he's gone!" Harry sounded almost anguished at the prospect.

"Gone?" said Narcissa sharply. "What do you mean gone, dead men do not just get up and walk away- oh!" She'd climbed into the Shack herself by this time. Lupin, desperately curious to see what was transfixing the others, hauled himself up the ladder.

The Shack was as ramshackle and falling apart as ever, although now with the added addition of a coating of blood to the floor. There was however no body in sight.

"He's not here," said Lupin, blinking as he looked around. "Why isn't he here?"

"Yes, Potter, why isn't he here?" said Narcissa, once again sounding uncannily like Draco. "You said this was where we'd find him."

"But... he was here!" Harry cried. "He was right here; I saw him die! I watched him bleed to death here! He just lived long enough to pass on his Pensieve memories and then died in front of me." He whirled round to face the other two, near panic. "Someone must have taken the body!"

"Such as?" Narcissa asked. "No one else knew he was here!"

"She has a point, Harry," said Lupin. "You were the only one to see him die."

"Hermione and Ron saw him," said Harry hopefully, but even he realised that that wasn't very likely. Lupin and Narcissa didn't even bother to argue the point.

"No one from our side took him," said Lupin. "Voldemort's not even been dead an hour - no one would have had the chance even if they'd known where to look."

"Death Eaters then," said Harry wildly. "Yes, that's it, Death Eaters must have come and taken him!" He turned to Narcissa, grabbing her arms. "Who were they? Who took him, do you know? Did Voldemort send anyone to get him?" He shook her, desperate for answers.

"Harry-" Lupin began, seeing actual fear in Narcissa's eyes.

"I - I don't know!" Narcissa cried. "He didn't order anyone to fetch Severus's body, I think we all assumed he'd disposed of it. Harry, please, let me go, you're hurting me!" Her voice rose to a pitch, and Lupin had had enough.

"_Harry_," he said, placing a firm hand on the boy's arm. "Let her _go_. That is not how we find out things we want to know, is it?"

Harry reluctantly let himself be dragged away.

"Thank you," said Lupin. He inclined his head towards Narcissa. "My apologies, Mrs. Malfoy. I don't think he's recovered from the trauma of battle yet and he always was a bit impulsive."

"Accepted, Mr. Lupin," said Narcissa faintly. She smoothed down her clothes, eyeing Harry warily. Lupin, seeing that Harry appeared to be calmer, finally released him.

"So, Mrs. Malfoy, how likely is it that your sister's former comrades came for the body?" Lupin asked.

Narcissa laughed. "My dear, not terribly. The Dark Lord did not order anyone to go and fetch the body, therefore I don't believe anyone would have done, not with a battle to fight. In the aftermath of victory perhaps, but as we all know, that victory never came." She flashed a brief smile at Harry, who was barely composed enough to nod back.

"But they might have come looking for revenge on his body, after I told everyone Snape was really on our side?" Harry persisted. Narcissa shook her head.

"Again, I doubt it. It's possible, but those who weren't killed or captured wouldn't have wanted to linger. Stopping to abuse a corpse that might not even be here is a waste of valuable time. Besides, Severus had been killed by the Dark Lord. Most of us would regard that as sufficient punishment."

"She has a point," said Lupin. "I can't see many Death Eaters hanging around to take their frustrations out on a corpse."

"Someone must have taken him," Harry cried. "I saw him die! He couldn't have just vanished!"

"Did you now," said Narcissa softly. Her mind was starting to work again, and despite appearances to the contrary, Narcissa was neither empty-headed nor a fool. "Tell me, what did you see exactly? How did he die? Tell me _precisely_ what you saw."

So Harry did, starting with the moment Voldemort ordered Nagini to kill Snape, and finishing with he, Ron and Hermione leaving the Shack and returning to the school. Narcissa and Lupin listened intently.

"You didn't stay around then," said Lupin. Harry shook his head.

"No; should I?"

"Should he- of course!" Narcissa cried. "When you said the Dark Lord had killed him, I thought you meant with the Killing Curse!"

"Does it matter?" Harry asked, confused. Snape was dead, wasn't he? What did it matter how he died?

"Of course it matters!" Narcissa threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. "Idiot child, do you think a mere snakebite could kill Severus Snape? Do you honestly think he'd not prepared for this eventuality? Nagini's venom is formidable, yes, but we purebloods have been poisoning each other for centuries. There's a good many Death Eaters who fell to their fellows rather than the Ministry or the Order, and Snape had no shortage of enemies. He regularly took antidotes for every poison that had one... and I think he even invented antidotes for some of the ones that didn't."

"What, even Nagini's venom?" Lupin said, surprised. "He was skilled indeed if he could do that. Doesn't it keep the wounds open so the victim bleeds to death?"

Narcissa nodded. "Yes. But plenty of potions need snake venom as an ingredient and Snape frequently milked Nagini for just that purpose. He had ample time to study it and work out a way of counteracting its effects."

Harry sat down on a chair that just about managed to support his weight. "But he couldn't have done. I saw him bleed to death; I saw him die!"

"Harry, you're not a doctor," said Lupin. "It's possible you were mistaken." He turned to Narcissa. "Isn't it?"

"Certainly," said Narcissa, her eyes burning. "Absolutely it's possible! Snape had an antidote for the venom in his veins, that would have neutralised the poison and made it possible for the wounds to heal, all he had to do was craft the wounds shut, which I know he's more than capable of. He would have been weak from loss of blood but he could have survived."

Lupin said nothing. He was staring at the blood on the floor, in particular one edge of it which looked disturbed, as if someone had crawled through it, leaving a trail that led to one corner. The corner in question was less dusty than the rest of the building, and there were marks in what was there, as if someone had brushed it aside recently, their fingers leaving trails. Lupin followed the trail, knelt down and ripped open another trapdoor in the floor.

"Empty," he said softly.

"Lupin?" Narcissa asked. "What's empty?"

"They used to keep healing potions here," said Lupin. "Including blood replenishment elixirs. It was for after the moons. I know Snape had it restocked when I was teaching here, just in case we ever needed the Shack again. Yes, that's it, he passed the memories on, sealed the wounds shut, crawled over here and helped himself. What he didn't use immediately he probably took with him. Then he left."

"He didn't die," Narcissa breathed. "God be praised, he _didn't die_. He's alive, Lupin!" She and Lupin met each other's gaze before Narcissa squealed with delight and flung her arms around him. Lupin looked likewise elated, actually hugging Narcissa back and swinging her around before they both realised who they were touching and promptly let go of each other, looking rather embarrassed.

"But he'd stopped breathing!" Harry insisted, trying to reconcile this with what he'd seen. He'd _seen_ Snape die. Hadn't he? "He couldn't have sealed the wounds; he didn't have time! He passed on the memories and then he died, still bleeding! You can see that from the blood that is here."

Narcissa shook her head. "There are ten pints of blood in the human body. There's not even half of that spilt here. He's lost blood, yes, but not enough to kill outright, and please, neither of you ask me how I know this."

Harry met Lupin's eyes, both of them in total agreement that they could live quite happily never knowing the finer details of this.

"So what did happen then?" Lupin asked. "Harry did seem very certain Snape had stopped breathing, and if he never had time to seal the wounds shut..."

Narcissa looked very thoughtful. "I have heard tales of various meditative techniques that enable one to enter a deep trance, stop one's heartbeat and breathing, let one's magic preserve one's brain and body, and make one appear to all intents and purposes as if dead. It wouldn't shock me if Snape knew of some of them. I don't believe they require any great magical power, just strength of will, which he had in abundance, and something to focus the mind on."

_Look at me..._ Harry remembered Snape's dying words, remembered letting Snape look into his eyes, his mother's eyes, the eyes of his lost love. He thought at the time Snape had wanted to see them for the last time. He should have known that Snape wasn't that sentimental.

"So..." said Harry, still trying to wrap his head around the idea, "you're saying Snape's not really dead."

"Oh well done," said Narcissa, voice dripping with poison. "You got there in the end, didn't you? Lupin, how did he win the war exactly?"

"Leave him alone, he's had a hard day," Lupin told her. Ignoring Narcissa's muttered "And I haven't?" he turned back to Harry.

"Yes, Harry," said Lupin. "We are."

"Snape's alive," Harry whispered, the realisation finally hitting him. "He's _alive!_ We have to find him, we have to tell everyone about this, they've got to know-"

"No!" Narcissa cried. Both men looked at her, surprised.

"Why?" Harry shouted. "He did his bit, he was one of the bravest people I ever knew, and everyone thinks he's a complete arsehole!"

"The two aren't incompatible," Lupin remarked with a grin.

"He deserves better than that," said Harry. "He deserves to be celebrated. He deserves to be called a hero." He looked desperately at Lupin and Narcissa. "Don't you think so?"

"Well, what we deserve and what we get aren't always the same thing, are they?" said Narcissa. "For which I'm on the whole rather grateful."

_You would be_, Harry thought. But as the nominal peacekeeper, he thought better of saying it.

"It seems to me," said Lupin, stroking his chin, "that if Severus Snape is truly alive, the question of what he deserves ought to be left to him."

"Well, yes," said Harry, bewildered. "But surely he'd want..."

"Have you asked him?" said Lupin. Harry had to admit he hadn't.

"In that case, hadn't we better keep quiet about his supposed resurrection until we find him to ask?" Lupin pulled up the remains of a nearby chair, repaired it with a word, and sat down. It just about held his weight. "I suggest we do nothing - act as if he is dead, have him publicly exonerated and see what happens. If we are wrong and he is truly dead, then we have not made fools of ourselves in public. If we are right, and he's alive, he'll come forward, I'm sure. Don't you think?" He addressed this to Narcissa.

"Almost certainly, assuming he wants to be found," she replied. "It's possible he's at the Manor right now, waiting for me to return. Alternately, he may be at his old home. Whatever, when he hears who won and that he's posthumously been awarded the Order of Merlin, he'll want to return and claim the glory. Unless of course he would rather the world believed him dead."

"Would he do that?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Quite possibly," Lupin replied. "Fleeing Death Eaters wouldn't have stopped to molest a corpse, but it would be a different matter entirely if word got out he was still alive."

"And if Severus Snape does not want you to find him, rest assured you never will," said Narcissa.

"I see," said Harry, taking in the pair of them; Lupin appearing as calm as ever, Narcissa showing no emotion at all. "So that's it, is it? We're just going to let him _disappear_ forever and never see him again, is that it? _Is it??_"

Neither of the others even flinched.

"Is he always like this?" Narcissa asked after a moment's silence. Lupin nodded.

"It does happen, yes. He had a particularly rough phase a few years ago, but we'd hoped he'd grown out of it." He turned back to Harry before the boy could even gather his wits to retort. "Harry, listen to me. I said we shouldn't out him as still alive before verifying the fact and obtaining Snape's opinion. However," Lupin's expression turned from fatherly to feral in a second, "at no time did I say we shouldn't go looking for him."

~~~~~~

__

_Severus Snape   
1960 - 1998   
Hogwarts Potions Master 1980 - 1996   
Hogwarts Defence Against the Dark Arts Master 1996 - 1997   
Head of Slytherin House 1980 - 1997   
Hogwarts Headmaster 1997 - 1998   
A life lived in the shadow, that we may walk in the light.   
R.I.P. _

And in those words a life was summed up; summed up and dismissed, all 38 years of fighting, deceiving, striving, surviving, in just a few words carved in silver on a black marble obelisk. It had been placed under the trees, by the lake, in the same place Snape had lost Lily for good. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the irony. He wondered if Snape would appreciate it. Probably not. Harry just hoped he would one day get the chance to ask him.

The memorial service had been far better attended than Harry had imagined; despite it now being generally known that Snape had been working for Dumbledore all along, he'd thought the man's unpleasantness while alive would dissuade people from attending. He'd been stunned to see most of the Hogwarts staff, nearly all the surviving Order members, virtually all of Slytherin House and amazingly, many more students and former students not from Slytherin turning up.

"I didn't expect all these people," he'd whispered to Ron and Hermione.

"Think most of them turned up just to make sure he was dead," Ron had muttered. Harry barely managed to avoid wincing. _He's not dead, he's _not.

Nevertheless, the service had proceeded as if that was the case, with moving tributes and memories, some of them even sincere. Even Neville had spoken, talking about how much he'd learnt from Snape about how to stand up for what he believed in. There'd been a few grins from the former DA members at that. Harry had not been one of them.

Now he was standing by the memorial as the rain fell down, grim reality sinking in. It had been a whole three weeks since the battle. Snape had not been waiting for Narcissa at Malfoy Manor. Snape had not turned up at the Ministry or Hogwarts or anywhere else. If Snape was still alive, he'd disappeared off the face of the earth.

"Admiring Narcissa's creative work?"

Harry didn't react as Lupin approached.

"It's very black," he said, stroking the surface. It was warm to the touch, humming with preservative magic.

"So was he," Lupin replied. "Did you ever see him in any other colour?"

"I saw him wearing a grey nightshirt once," said Harry, thinking back to his fourth year. Beside him, he felt Lupin go very tense.

"I hope there was a perfectly innocent explanation for that," he said, and Harry might have been imagining this, but did Lupin sound just a little bit... angry? Surely not. Not Lupin.

"He'd just heard a noise and got up to investigate. I, er, might have been wearing my Cloak late at night and seen him," Harry admitted. Lupin visibly relaxed.

"That's alright then. For a moment there, I thought the fine line between love and hate was even finer than I imagined."

_Maybe it is._ Harry stared at the monument, a near unbearable tightness in his chest. He'd thought he'd missed Sirius when he died, but that hadn't been anything like as bad as this. He wiped at one eye, feeling tears start to flow and the worst thing was he wasn't even sure why.

"I didn't even like the bloke," he whispered, even as he felt his composure slip.

"I know, Harry," said Lupin softly, taking the crying boy into his arms. "I know."

They stayed like that for some time, holding each other as the rain poured down, soaking their robes and turning Harry's hair into even more of a bird's nest than normal. Despite the damp, Harry found he didn't want to move. He could feel the cold seeping into his bones, but going inside would mean facing people and talking to people and forcing himself to smile and leaving the warm circle of Remus Lupin's arms.

"We should go inside," said Lupin at length. "I left Teddy with Andromeda, she'll be wanting to know where I am."

"Noooo," Harry pleaded, clinging on to Lupin's robes. "No, please, I... I can't. Ginny's there, she'll want to talk to me, I think she wants to go out with me again and I'm not sure I can do it."

"Do what?" Lupin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This," said Harry, and pulled Lupin's face towards him, meeting his lips with a bruising kiss. Lupin cried out, but he didn't seem to be fighting very hard and Harry had not been kissing him for long before Lupin started kissing back, arms sliding around him and fingers running through his hair.

"Shouldn't... be doing... this... student... wrong..." Lupin gasped in between kisses.

"Haven't been... a student... for over a year," Harry moaned. He staggered backwards, hauling Lupin with him until they collided with the memorial. "Haven't been a _child_... for over a year."

"I just... lost my wife," Lupin breathed, but he was pushing Harry back into the marble, sliding a hand under his shirt and a knee in between Harry's legs.

"All the more reason to have me," Harry murmured, gripping Lupin's arse and pulling him closer, feeling Lupin's cock straining behind the fabric of his trousers. Lupin moaned and gave in, thrusting against him, their matching erections rubbing against each other, generating a friction that set Harry's nerves on fire. He leaned back against the monument, solid marble at his back to match solid Lupin at his front. Lupin was kissing him fervently, moaning as his tongue explored Harry's mouth, fingers entwining in Harry's hair as his other hand slid around Harry's back to grope his arse.

_Yes, yes, want this, want this so much._ For the first time since the battle, Harry felt alive again, whole again. He didn't have to worry about talking to the press, or the Ministry, or Ron and Hermione, or Ginny, or any of the other Weasleys, or any of the other well-wishers who meant well but all wanted yet another piece of him.

Lupin didn't want him. Lupin _needed_ him. And that made all the difference. _I am yours, all yours, take whatever you want, use me however you want._ He writhed against Lupin, desperate to feel the friction of Lupin's erection against his, clinging on to the back of his robes. Lupin released Harry's mouth and sank his teeth into Harry's neck. Harry cried out at the unexpected pain, eyes flicking open... and widening as he saw, or thought he saw, a pale face with deep black eyes staring out at him from under the trees.

"Snape?" he gasped, and on hearing the name, Lupin groaned, thrust rapidly against Harry and shuddered his orgasm. Harry shut his eyes and let his own climax overwhelm him. When he finally stopped shaking and opened them again, the face had gone.

Lupin was resting his head on Harry's shoulder, arms draped around him. Harry clung on to him, wondering what had just happened. The rain was pelting down around them, soaking their robes and dripping through to the skin, but Harry had no desire to move. Talking would mean confronting what had just taken place, admitting that perhaps neither Ginny nor Tonks meant as much to them as anyone had thought.

"You were thinking of him too," said Lupin softly. "Thank God, thank God it's not just me."

Harry shook his head. "Not thinking - not just thinking," he amended. "I _saw_ him, Remus! He was standing right there!" He pointed at where he'd seen the face. Lupin frowned, turned and strode over to where Harry had indicated. Muttering a quick _Lumos_, he looked around.

"He's not here now, Harry," said Lupin. "But I think someone might have been - the ground's disturbed."

"So it could have been him," said Harry, hope flaring inside.

"It could," Lupin confirmed, and the hope in his eyes reflected Harry's own.

"You want to see him again as much as I do, don't you?" Harry asked. Lupin nodded.

"Yes. Yes, I do. We'd forged a tentative alliance of sorts before... before Dumbledore died, and I secretly hoped for more. Of course, I never got the chance. In the end, I went with Tonks because it was better than being alone. But if Snape were still alive, and if he was working for the Order all along..."

Harry vaguely supposed he should be feeling jealous about now. However, all he felt was sheer pleasure at knowing it wasn't just him who felt this way, wasn't just him who was sorry for the wasted opportunities.

"I know," said Harry softly. "I know, I want him too." He felt a little shiver as he finally admitted it - finally he felt things falling into place. He knew what he wanted, and it was Snape in his arms; although having an armful of werewolf was hardly unappealing. He looked at Lupin and smiled. "I'd be willing to share? That's if he actually wants me, of course."

Lupin stared at Harry, before breaking out into a smile. "I think we can come to an agreement of some kind, yes. May I take it you don't have any interest in Ginny any more?"

Harry shook his head. "She's nice and she's pretty, but I think she's in love, and I'm... not. That, and she wasn't there, she missed the worst of the fighting, she doesn't _get_ it. I'm not who I was at the end of last year, but she still is, and I just can't..."

Lupin took him into his arms, holding him until the shaking subsided.

"You can't face her, or her family, is that right?" Lupin asked gently.

"I think they're all expecting me to get back with her and propose," said Harry, his voice muffled. "Well, Ron isn't, not right away anyway, and George is too busy mourning Fred to notice, but the others are all dropping hints and watching me, and Ginny's just looking at me hopefully and trying to talk to me _all the time_ and I just don't want to deal with it any more!"

"You need to get away from it all, somewhere that isn't Grimmauld Place or the Burrow or anywhere else they can find you," said Lupin. Harry nodded. Lupin smiled, tracing a finger along his lips.

"I have the perfect place."

~~~~~

"Snape lived here?" Harry gasped as Lupin led him into the run-down terrace house.

"When he was a boy," Lupin nodded. "After his parents died, he kept the house as a bolthole. No one ever thought to look for him here. Certainly I don't think anyone will think to look for you."

Harry had to agree. The nondescript Muggle two-up two-down residence was the last place anyone would go looking for the Boy Who Lived Twice. The house wasn't even as big as the Dursleys', consisting of a run-down living room lined with all sorts of books both Muggle and magical and precious little else, except a large portrait over the mantelpiece of a middle-aged woman in black Victorian clothes who resembled Snape and who the picture frame declared to be Eileen Prince-Snape. She was standing in a study that certainly wasn't this house, facing the window, although glancing over her shoulder at the artist, apparently utterly uninterested. The portrait was presumably a Muggle one, as it wasn't moving in any way - nonetheless there was still something about it that gave Harry the creeps. There was also an elderly kitchen that made Molly's look like something from the IKEA catalogue, a coal cellar that appeared to have been converted into a potions lab, and upstairs, one master bedroom, and another room which had been split into two at one stage and now consisted of a bedroom and bathroom. There had been electricity at one stage, but it appeared to have been disconnected some time ago. Given the state of some of the wiring, this was probably for the best. The cupboards were empty and the whole place needed a good clean; but the wards were very impressive. Creature comforts Harry could do without; privacy and security he couldn't.

"I'll take it," he said.

"It's not mine to give," said Lupin. "But Snape left no family, and his will's not appeared at the Ministry for probate, so no one's likely to claim it." Lupin didn't need to explain to Harry that magical wills automatically appeared at the relevant Ministry department and the home of the executor when the writer died, so either Snape had never written one or...

"Thanks anyway," said Harry. "You'll tell Ron and Hermione I'm okay, won't you?"

"I will, but you should write to them yourself at some point too. At least tell them all you're not interested in Ginny any more." Lupin was giving Harry his schoolteacher look. Harry grimaced at the thought - while he appreciated he needed to write eventually, he really wasn't looking forward to the reaction when he did. On the other hand, a little voice at the back of his mind whispered, if they didn't know where he was, it wouldn't really matter, would it? Harry brushed it aside and turned his attention back to Lupin.

"So, um, you'll keep in touch, won't you?" said Harry nervously, at least until he realised how pathetic that sounded. "I mean, about tracking down Snape and everything." There. Didn't want Lupin to think he was being clingy or anything, did he?

"Yes, yes of course," Lupin said, just a little too quickly. Like Harry, he didn't seem sure of what to do with himself either, now that they were alone together and without practicalities to discuss. It occurred to Harry that _I'm too old_ could just be a kinder way of saying _you're too young_.

"Anyway, I, er, must be getting back - Andromeda will be wondering where I've got to, and I don't want to leave her with Teddy on her own for too long."

"Yes, of course, I shouldn't keep you," said Harry, following Lupin to the door to see him out, resolutely ignoring the part of him that was screaming for Lupin not to go. He didn't know whether it was from loneliness or lust. Maybe both. He hesitated as they reached the door.

"So, goodbye, I suppose," said Harry. He made no move to open the door though.

"Goodbye," said Lupin, a hint of sadness to his voice. He reached for the door handle at the same time Harry did, and their hands met. Harry looked up sharply, their eyes met and next thing he knew Lupin was on him, pushing him back against the wall, taking Harry's face in his hands and kissing him wildly. Harry responded without a thought, pulling Lupin to him and kissing him back... at least until Lupin broke off and pushed him away.

"Remus?" Harry asked, confused. Lupin was staring at him, horrified.

"I have to go," he whispered, before turning and fleeing the house. Harry called after him, but Lupin had Apparated as soon as he was clear of the wards. Closing the door, Harry sank down to the floor, crushed. Why did all this have to be so complicated? Glancing up, he noticed Eileen's portrait staring down at him. He could have been imagining it, but her previously neutral expression now seemed to be scowling.

~~~~~

_Dear Ron and Hermione, _

_Sorry for disappearing like that at the memorial service. I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the well-wishers and people wanting to talk to me. Also Rita Skeeter was hanging around and I was running out of polite ways of avoiding her. _

_Anyway, I'm safe and well, and doing alright. I guess I just want a bit of peace and quiet at the moment. Everyone seems to want a piece of the Boy Who Died But Didn't, and it's exhausting. Not to worry though, Lupin found me somewhere to hide out in. They'll never find me here! I'm quite alright so please don't worry about me. I might find myself getting a bit lonely in a day or two as well, so it won't be too long before I invite you both over. Assuming you're both still talking to me, that is. See, I've got something to tell you and I'm not sure how you'll react. _

_I think- no, I know that I fancy blokes. I don't know whether that makes me gay or bi or what, but I'm finding more and more that it's men I'm fancying, not women. No, Ron, not you, don't worry. You're my best mate, it'd be weird. I don't fancy any of your brothers either. And... I'm not sure I want to get back with Ginny either. It's not that I don't like her, but I've just been through so much, changed so much, I just don't know if we've got much in common any more. I suppose you two must know how it feels a bit, to have gone through all this and realise no one else quite gets what you did and what you went through. But at least you two have got each other. I don't have that with Ginny. I'm not really sure where I go from here. I hope I haven't shocked you both too much. You're both still talking to me, aren't you? _

_Anyway, write soon. At the moment, it's just me and a portrait who I swear keeps glaring at me - and it's a Muggle painting. I'm going to need entertaining, or I think I may go mad. I've already caught myself talking to it three times today. _

_All the best, _

_Harry _

Harry read the letter over, decided that it would have to do and cast a copying charm before placing both copies in separate envelopes and attaching them to the owl Lupin had lent him. He'd adjusted the wards so that Ron and Hermione would be able to find him, but no one else. Of course, if Ron took it badly, he might regret that, but he wanted to give his friends the benefit of the doubt. More than anything, he wanted to see them again and hug them and talk to them about what had happened with Lupin and how he was starting to feel about Snape and how he didn't think Snape was dead and desperately wanted to talk to him. Although thinking about it, maybe he didn't want to tell Ron quite everything. He wasn't entirely sure he'd understand.

"After all," he sighed, leaning back in the armchair, addressing Eileen's portrait, "how do you tell your best mate with the emotional range of a teaspoon that not only do you now fancy blokes as well as girls, you've got off with your newly-widowed ex-teacher and you're pining for your ex-Potions master who you hated with a fiery passion when he was still around?" He took a sip of the whisky he'd found at the back of one of the cupboards. "God, my life is weird."

He never noticed the scowl on Eileen's face turn into a look of sheer bafflement.

~~~~~

_Dear Harry, _

_Thank God you wrote to us - Kingsley was all ready to have you declared a missing person and engage in a manhunt. _

_Good to know you're safe, although a little warning would have been nice - you can talk to us about these things, you know! We're your friends, we care about you. Although I do understand that you needed space - the pressure must be unbearable at the moment. We've told everyone you're having a quiet rest holiday in the countryside to recover. It's close enough to the truth after all. _

_As for the rest... oh Harry. Of course we still want to talk to you. It's perfectly fine to be bisexual or gay or whatever you think you're becoming. You're still our friend, and if you end up introducing us to the man you want to spend the rest of your life with instead of a woman, that's fine by us. Well, fine by me anyway. Ron took a bit longer to get used to the idea, but I think he's mostly got his head around it by now. He was a bit annoyed that you weren't going to go back out with Ginny any more too but we talked about it, and I think he'll get used to the idea. _

_Don't worry about Ginny either: I've spoken to her. I didn't tell her about the bisexuality bit, but I did manage to tell her you didn't really want a girlfriend at the moment, that it was nothing personal but you were suffering from what the Muggles call Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and that you didn't want to be around people much. And that she'd be better off not waiting because you weren't really going to be much good as a boyfriend. She was a bit upset about it, as you can imagine, and it's probably best if you don't go anywhere near the Burrow for a while, as Molly's not best pleased with you right now. But they'll forgive you in the end. _

_Anyway, hope you're coping over there. I don't know much about Halifax other than that it's up North, but I hope you're not too bored. I'd love to come and see you, and I'm sure Ron will too - he said he's writing to you separately. I must say, it's very nice of Remus to lend you his house like that - I suppose he doesn't need it now he's moved in with Andromeda, and he's fine for money now that Mrs. Malfoy's made up with her sister and is helping them out, but still it's quite generous. Still, Halifax - I had no idea he was from Yorkshire. He doesn't sound at all Northern. _

_Lots of love, _

_Hermione _

~~~~~ __

_Dear Harry, _

_Bloody hell, you've not gone all ginger beer on me, have you? Please tell me you're not going to start lisping and buying scatter cushions and poodles and glittery purple robes and bringing home men called Julian, because if you do, I might have to pretend not to know you. A bit tricky, granted, seeing as the entire wizarding world knows who you are, but I'd manage somehow. _

_My sister's in tears because of you, and my mum won't have your name mentioned in the house, and you ought to know it's my family duty to smack you one... but I can't really be arsed, and besides I sort of knew things weren't right anyway. You'd been avoiding her ever since the battle, even I'd noticed that. At least you've had the balls to admit it and not keep her hanging. I think they'll all come round in the end. I know Gin, she'll weep and wail loudly for a week, then get together with her mates and bitch about how crap men are and how she's never going out with one again... then she'll meet someone else and forget all about you. _

_So come on then. Out with it. Who is he? You don't just wake up one morning and decide you're going to be a flaming homosexual. There must be someone who triggered it all off, and seeing as you've not got the good taste to fancy anyone in my family, it's obviously someone else we know. Come on, who is it? Is it Kingsley? He's certainly got the charisma, I'll give him that, but he's a little on the old side. Not Lupin, surely, he's way too old and he wears brown cardies, for god's sake. He can't possibly be gay dressed like that. Could be Neville, but I didn't think he'd be your type - but then again I thought you were going to marry my sister so what do I know? Oh god, it's not Malfoy, is it? Please tell me you don't fancy Malfoy. I really will have to punch you if it's Malfoy. Come to think of it, what is your type anyway? You're my best mate and I have no idea what sort of person you even go for any more. Although come to think of it, you never did really seem interested in joining in when Seamus and Dean and I were rating witches back in Hogwarts. I just thought you were a bit shy about sex, but now I'm beginning to think maybe we should have tried rating wizards instead, eh? _

_Anyway, of course Hermione and I are still speaking to you, you daft berk. It'll take more than admitting you like it up the arse to get rid of us. Just, er, don't give me any details, yeah? I'm not sure I want to know what kinky things you and your future boyfriends are getting up to. _

_Cheers, _

_Ron _

~~~~~

Harry laid down the letters, grinning stupidly and not really caring. They'd arrived within an hour of each other as the sun was setting, the day after he'd sent the original out; a whole day of watching and waiting and pacing about the living room, anxiously asking a fed-up portrait why they'd not written and speculating as to how much both Ron and Hermione hated him right now.

Now it appeared the speculation was over.

"They're okay with it!" he shouted. "They're okay! They don't mind! Hermione was really understanding, and Ron was, well, Ron but he says he's still my best mate, and they've even taken care of the Ginny problem for me! Isn't that fantastic??"

Harry remembered that he was talking to a Muggle portrait and promptly reined himself in. The supercilious expression on Eileen's face wasn't helping either.

"Of course, I haven't told them I fancy Snape yet," said Harry, sinking into a chair. "Or that I'm fairly certain he's still alive. Or that Lupin and I are going to go looking for him and see if he's up for some sort of threesome arrangement. In fact, I'm fairly certain there's a clue of some sort right in this house if I could just but see it." He got up, frustrated. He'd looked everywhere, every nook and cranny he could find, but there was nothing to indicate where Snape might have decided to seek sanctuary. He was close to giving up, but something told him that the answer was hidden somewhere. It was just a matter of figuring out where.

However, he was no nearer to knowing by the time he went to bed, having owled Ron and Hermione inviting them over the following day. He drifted off to sleep with a head full of wild ideas and crazy speculation but no actual concrete leads. This may or may not have been responsible for the dreams.

Harry was backed up against the memorial again, Lupin pinning him to the marble, snogging him hungrily, almost seeking to devour him as his cock strained in his trousers, frotting against Harry.

"Please," Harry moaned. "Please..."

"God, I need you so badly," Lupin breathed into Harry's ear.

"I'm yours," Harry gasped. "Take me... please."

Lupin ran his fingertips down Harry's cheek, forehead pressed to Harry's.

"Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. He'd never been so sure of anything in his life.

"Then put your hands above your head." Harry did as he was told. Lupin murmured a charm, and manacles formed out of the marble, securing Harry's wrists to the pillar. A Sticking Charm secured his back, and it wasn't long before Harry's trousers and underpants were around his ankles.

"Step out of your trousers," said Lupin, eyes gazing into Harry's. Harry hastily kicked them off. Lupin whispered a Lubrication Spell and slid two fingers between Harry's legs, sliding behind his scrotum and into his anus, gently thrusting and stretching. Harry cried out, struggling against his bonds.

"Hush now, Harry, it's alright," said Lupin gently. "I just need to make sure you're ready for me. I know it's your first time, I don't want to hurt you."

Had Harry still been able to formulate a coherent sentence at that stage, he would have reassured him that he really didn't mind Lupin hurting him all that much. However, all he could manage was "Guh".

Lupin grinned at that and, removing his hand, lifted Harry's legs and swung them over his shoulders, casting a variant of Leviosa that caused them to stay that way without Harry having to keep them there. Harry whimpered as Lupin unfastened his own trousers, freeing an impressive erection.

"Just relax, Harry," Lupin murmured as he conjured yet more lube, spreading it over his cock. "Lie back and enjoy it. Just let my cock inside you, just open up and give yourself to me."

"Oh god," Harry moaned, trying to angle his arse towards Lupin, desperate to feel the other man inside him. Lupin smiled, one hand on Harry's buttocks and one guiding his cock to nudge at Harry's arse. Harry caught his breath, eyes shut, just waiting to feel Lupin penetrate him - and then he really did feel it as Lupin's cock moved inside. It felt bigger than he'd even imagined, filling him up, stretching him wider than he thought he was even capable of going.

"God," he whimpered. Lupin hushed him gently, brushing the hair back off his forehead.

"Shush, you're doing well," Lupin soothed him. He eased in a little further, thrusting very slowly in and out, each time penetrating just that bit deeper before pulling out. "That's it, Harry, just relax, just breathe, just let me slide right inside you, oh that's good, that's very good, god you feel so tight, you feel amazing, oh Harry, yes..." Lupin trailed off into incoherence, his thrusts speeding up as Harry's body adjusted to accommodate him. Harry clung on to Lupin, writhing against him, feeling the orgasm preparing itself inside him. His eyes flicked open, glancing over Lupin's shoulder... to where Snape was leaning against a nearby tree, black robes swept aside and his trousers unfastened, his cock resting in one hand as he leisurely masturbated. Lupin didn't seem to either know or care that Snape was watching.

"Snape," Harry whispered. Snape looked almost smug as he nodded.

"Oh god, yes," Lupin moaned, speeding up until he came, grunting and crying as he did so. Snape remained silent, but his grip on his cock had tightened and he'd gone very pale, clutching at the tree for support. Harry stared into his eyes, imagining what it would feel like to be pleasuring Snape more directly. Perhaps taking that cock into his mouth while Lupin fucked him from behind... That thought was enough to send him over the edge. He felt the orgasm hit him as he woke up, crying out Snape's name.

And promptly screamed as his eyes opened and the first thing he saw was Eileen from the portrait leaning over him in the moonlight. He couldn't see her clearly, but what he did know was that the covers had come off him in the night, his hand was in his pyjama bottoms clutching his cock and he'd just come all over himself. Yelping, he dived under the sheets and reached for his wand. When he looked up again, she was gone.

Harry cast a quick Lumos. The room looked as it had done when he'd gone to bed. Even the door was shut. Shaking, Harry got up. It was entirely possible he'd dreamed the whole thing, but even so, he was taking no chances. Cleaning himself up with a muttered Cleansing Charm, he dressed and went downstairs. The portrait was still on the wall, with Eileen safely within it. Harry raised his lit wand to have a look at her face. The bloody thing was practically gloating at him.

"That does it," said Harry softly. "I'm going back to Grimmauld Place in the morning, I'm meeting up with Lupin and Ron and Hermione and anyone else who'll join me, and we're bloody well ransacking this place for clues as to where Severus is and then we're burning it down and you with it. I'm not putting up with this!" Agitated as he was, he never even noticed that he'd slipped into calling Snape by his first name.

~~~~~

"Thank god you two turned up," was the first thing Harry said as he let Ron and Hermione in.

"Blimey, Harry," said Ron. "What's happened; has the food run out or something? Don't tell me, you've finally snapped and the portrait's started talking back to you." His laughter died as he and Hermione took in the look on Harry's face.

"Harry?" asked Hermione. "Are you alright? You look like you've hardly slept."

"I haven't really," Harry admitted. "Look, come in. Come straight through to the kitchen, I'd rather talk in there."

"OK, Harry, if that's what you want," said Hermione uneasily, exchanging a look with Ron, who just shrugged.

"Don't blame you, mate," said Ron, glancing around the living room. Even in broad daylight, there wasn't much natural light. The books had a way of seeming to absorb it, and given Snape's tastes, quite possibly some of them actually were.

All three of them sat around the kitchen table, drinking tea that Harry had made rather hastily with magical assistance. It wasn't the best tea in the world as a result, but Harry was too keyed up to notice and Ron and Hermione were too polite to point it out.

"So what's up, Harry?" Ron asked. "You look bloody awful. You're not going to pull any blokes looking like that, you know. Men are shallower than women- ow!" Hermione had smacked him on the arm.

"Ignore him, Harry," said Hermione. "What has happened, though? You don't look well. And what is this place? Lupin and Tonks never lived here, did they? This couldn't possibly be anyone's idea of a good family home."

"Except Snape's," said Ron. "Bet he'd love it here. It's exactly his sort of place."

"It's his old house," Harry admitted. "Hardly anyone knew about it, that's why Lupin suggested it. Apparently he found out about it from Narcissa. That portrait on the living room wall is of Snape's mum."

"So that's where he got his good looks from," Ron quipped. "Seriously, Harry, you could have fooled me. I thought it was a bloke in a dress at first."

"Eileen?" said Hermione thoughtfully. "Really? It doesn't look like her... but that picture I saw was of her as a girl, and it really wasn't very clear. Could be, I suppose." However, she still looked doubtful.

"Whoever it's of, there's something wrong with it," said Harry. "It's not talking back yet, but it keeps changing expression."

"Harry," said Ron patiently. "It's a portrait. That's what they do. Didn't you see enough of them at Hogwarts?"

Harry shook his head. "Not this one. It's a Muggle portrait, Ron! It doesn't move like magical ones do - I've seen enough of them to tell the difference! This one's still, but you'll look at it, look away, look again and it won't be exactly the same. Magical ones don't stop moving, they're always on the go. And last night..." He proceeded to tell them about waking up to find Eileen standing over him, watching, and then disappearing. Omitting the bit where he'd been having a wet dream about getting fucked by Lupin while Snape watched, of course. Some things his friends just didn't need to know.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ron whispered. "That's seriously weird. I've not heard of a portrait doing that before." He glanced around nervously, as if Eileen was about to leap out of the shadows any minute. "No wonder you wanted to talk in here. Tell you what, let's get your stuff and get out of here, go back to Grimmauld Place. Then I'll talk to Bill and get him and Fleur and Lupin and maybe Narcissa, she must know a thing or two about Dark portraits, and whoever else to come back here and check the place out. That OK, mate?"

Harry nodded, relieved. Trust Ron to know exactly what he needed. Hermione however was chewing her lip in that gesture that could only mean she was thinking, and what she was thinking wasn't good news.

"Harry, you said it was a Muggle portrait of Eileen Prince-Snape, right?"

"That's right," said Harry. "Why?"

"It can't be," said Hermione. "It's not possible to make still Muggle pictures of witches and wizards - the subject's magic influences the painter and imprints on the canvas through them. Same with photography - the magic affects the film, although I don't know if anyone's tried it with digital cameras yet. They're a bit too new, I think."

"But that can't be right," said Harry. "That'd breach the Statute of Secrecy, surely? Every holiday snap of a Muggle-born child'd be a dead giveaway."

"Yes, which is why there's a charm in existence that makes all magical portraits look like normal ones to Muggles," Hermione explained. "The magic's quite complicated - it was a major undertaking requiring extensive international co-operation; you two should read up about it, the story behind it all's fascinating..."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry interrupted, noticing Ron silently imploring him to do something. "I'll, er, be sure to look into it. So, back to this portrait - basically, what you're saying is that there's no way it can be a Muggle portrait, given that we're not Muggles and nor was she?"

Hermione nodded. "Exactly. That, or there's another possibility."

Harry wasn't at all sure he wanted to know what that possibility was, but he felt obliged to ask anyway.

"It might not be Eileen," said Hermione. "After all, none of us have ever seen her in the flesh, have we?"

"Not... not Eileen?" That possibility hadn't even occurred to Harry before. "But if she's not Eileen... who is she?"

"It might not even be a she," said Hermione. "Ron did say he thought it was a bloke in a dress, didn't you, Ron? Ron?"

Ron had gone very still and very quiet and was staring at the wall behind Harry's head. Harry caught the look of terror in Ron's eyes and felt the hair on the back of his neck start to prickle.

"Ron?" Harry asked, even though his every instinct was screaming at him that the last thing he wanted to do was turn around. "What is it?"

"Be-behind you," Ron whimpered. "It- it's behind you... and it's facing us and it looks really really annoyed."

Harry slowly turned around. "Eileen"'s portrait glared down at him from the kitchen wall, seeming absolutely furious. No longer blinded by the misconception that it was Eileen, the more he looked at it, the more he wondered how he could ever have mistaken that for female, and the more he realised that he knew those eyes, knew that expression from years of seeing it over his Potions cauldron.

"Both of you. Get out. Get Lupin. Now!" he shouted.

Ron snapped out of his terror trance immediately, grabbing Hermione and bundling her towards the door. As he did so, the figure in the portrait seemed to grow larger, magic pouring from it until suddenly it- he - was no longer standing in the frame, but in the room with them. Harry instinctively drew his wand, moving his body to shield Ron and Hermione.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, reaching out for him to join them.

"Go!" Harry shouted at them. "Run - I'll hold him off."

Ron had by this time reached the back door and got it open, shoving Hermione out ahead of him. He gave Harry one last look, took a deep breath and followed her. No sooner had Ron gone than the portrait figure had drawn his wand and wordlessly closed the door, sealing it shut. Harry was trapped. He only hoped Lupin would still be able to get in somehow.

The wizard shimmered and the illusion of feminine garb fell away, leaving the black schoolmaster robes that Harry was more familiar with. Severus Snape curled his lip, folding his arms as he regarded Harry coolly.

"You - you're alive," Harry whispered.

Snape nodded.

"The portrait - it was you the whole time, you in a dress..." Snape's lip curled.

"An illusion, Potter. Do you think I make a habit out of wearing women's clothing? I assure you, the idea does not appeal in the slightest. I merely created the portrait, slipped inside it and placed an illusion charm on it that would make whoever looked at it think they were seeing my mother. I am sure Granger will be delighted to explain the intricacies of the spell to you - no doubt she's looking it up as we speak. However, fascinating as that may be, there are more interesting things to talk about. Such as just what you're doing in my house, drinking my Firewhiskey, sleeping in my bed and having unmentionable thoughts about me and Lupin in it."

Harry couldn't respond, couldn't even think. He'd waited for this moment for so long, first so that he could kill Snape, then just to talk to him, and lately... He remembered the dream of last night and went pink as he realised Snape must have been reading his mind while he dreamed. Oh god. He knows. The thought didn't bother him as much as it should.

"Why so quiet, Potter? You aren't usually so lost for words. Can it be you're afraid?"

_I'm not afraid of you, Snape_. All that came out though was something close to a squeak. Snape trailed a finger down Harry's cheek, the smug smile disappearing.

"You are in my house," Snape repeated. "Why."

"I needed somewhere to go," said Harry, not bothering to lie. Snape had always been able to read him like a book, and they both knew it. "Somewhere Ginny and the press and everybody else weren't."

"And so you went to Lupin, and he brought you here. Potter, do you think I was born yesterday?"

"I don't understand," said Harry, narrowly avoiding calling him 'sir' out of sheer force of habit. Anger flared in Snape's eyes as he pinned Harry back against the wall, wand to his throat.

"You and Lupin, you planned to turn this place into a love nest, didn't you?" Snape seethed. "Don't try to deny it, Potter, I saw the two of you, fucking against my monument before the guests at my memorial service had even gone home! Your perverted dreams last night just confirmed it. You and the werewolf needed somewhere to go and decided that as I wasn't using it any more, this house would do, isn't that right?" Snape's eyes were dark with pure rage and his skin had gone very pale. Harry remembered Sirius once telling him that angry men who'd gone pale were far more to be feared than angry men with flushed faces, as they were more likely to turn violent. He really didn't like the way this was going.

"I'm only surprised he hasn't come for you yet, but maybe fatherhood is proving demanding. No matter; I am not going to sit idly by and wait for him to come and take you in my parents' bed!" Snape snarled.

"No need to wait," Lupin's voice cut across the kitchen. "I'm here. Let him go, Severus. If you have a right to be angry at anyone, it's me."

Lupin was standing in the doorway that led to the living room, holding both sides of the doorframe for support. His eyes never left Snape, and Harry suddenly realised that Lupin and Snape's friendship of sorts must have been rather more than that.

Snape slowly turned around, releasing Harry.

"Lupin," Snape breathed, and although the anger had not left his eyes, he sounded more like someone on the receiving end of a great hurt than one about to inflict it.

"Severus," said Lupin gently. "Oh, Severus. You're alive, thank god; I knew you couldn't be dead." He strode across the room, and would have taken Snape in his arms if he'd not stiffened and turned away.

"You believed me a murderer," said Snape coldly. "You must have done or you would not have married her!"

Lupin stepped away, lowering his arms.

"I didn't want to," he said miserably. "Believe me, Severus, I didn't want to believe it, but Harry seemed so sure, and afterwards you seemed so secure at Voldemort's side; I didn't know what to think, and you never sent me a word. I believed you lost to me, if I'd ever really had you in the first place. I wondered if perhaps I'd been mistaken all along. Tonks was offering, everyone else was encouraging us, I gave in because I didn't seem to have a reason not to any more. Severus, could you not have got word to me somehow??" Both men seemed to have forgotten Harry existed.

"By the time I was able to, you were already involved with her!" Snape cried. "I didn't think there was any point! Perhaps if you left a little time between partners... but clearly that's expecting a little too much, seeing as you had your tongue down Potter's throat mere weeks after being widowed."

Lupin looked as if he'd been slapped.

"That was uncalled-for, Severus."

"But true." Snape turned away from them both. "Get out of here, both of you. And don't come back. I've no particular desire to lay eyes on either of you again."

No... he can't... this wasn't how it was meant to happen! Harry stared at Lupin, who was looking equally lost, and felt something inside start to break. They'd been meant to find Snape and bring him back with them in celebration... but then again, it had always been a risk that he'd send them away, if he was really honest with himself.

Of course, Harry never had been any good at doing what Professor Snape told him to do.

"No," Harry heard himself saying. "No, we're not going anywhere."

Slowly, Snape turned to look at him. Harry saw the familiar look of fury and exasperation there that he'd come to know so well and felt his heart leap. This he could deal with.

"I see dying and coming back hasn't made you any less intransigent," Snape growled. "Very well, I suppose I will have to force you to leave-" He raised his wand and moved towards Harry, but before he could do anything, Harry had dived forward and snatched at Snape's robes.

"What are you-" Snape began, trying to disentangle the boy from him.

"You're a Legilimens, aren't you? Then read my mind!" Then he kissed him. Snape was still trying to fight him off, but not nearly as violently as before, and then Snape's hands came to rest awkwardly on his back and he'd stopped resisting altogether. Snape murmured the Legilimens spell and Harry felt him slide into his mind. He moaned at the impact, clinging on to Snape as he felt the other wizard exploring him. His mind wasn't the only thing that needed penetrating, and he wasted no time in letting Snape see some fantasies of exactly what he wanted doing. Specifically, fantasies involving Snape holding him from behind and fucking him hard while Lupin sucked Harry's cock.

_I'm not taking him from you, Severus. We both want you. You can have us both... if you want to, that is._

Snape groaned before breaking off the kiss and spinning Harry around. Next thing he knew, he was face down over the table with Snape pinning him down.

"Well, Lupin, it appears the greedy brat is not satisfied with just you in his arse, he apparently wants me to fuck him as well. I trust this meets with your approval?"

"I - I think I can cope with that," Lupin just about managed to get out. His breath sounded harsh and ragged, and out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw him reaching into his trousers. Snape smiled coldly and unfastened Harry's jeans, allowing them to fall to the floor, before whispering a lubrication charm.

"Normally, I prepare my lovers a little before fucking them, but I don't think a greedy little slut like you needs it," Snape growled. Freeing his erection, he positioned his cock at Harry's entrance and slid it inside. Harry yelped as he felt his body give way, stretching as Snape began to move. His own cock was fully erect now, the friction of being rubbed against the table making him almost as aroused as the feeling of being taken. He glanced over his shoulder, a moan from Snape making him curious to see what the man looked like. What he saw nearly sent him over the edge. Lupin was now standing behind Snape, arms wrapped round him, nibbling his neck. Snape had his eyes closed, abandoning himself to Lupin's ministrations. Lupin was hitching up Snape's robes, murmuring a charm to keep them in place, murmuring another charm, and then thrusting into Snape, drawing a deep, throaty moan from Snape's throat.

"God, Lupin, I've missed this," Snape gasped.

"I've missed you too, Severus," Lupin whispered. "Missed you so fucking much! Oh god, Severus..." He began to speed up, holding tightly on to Snape, his every thrust sending Snape thrusting harder into Harry.

Harry shut his eyes, clinging to the table to support himself. This was how he'd wanted it, him and Snape and Lupin all entwined together, all licking and sucking and thrusting and fucking, and he couldn't hold on any more, he was close to the edge, and then he was coming and Snape was coming inside him, and nothing else seemed to matter any more.

~~~~~

Afterwards all three of them were entwined in the master double bed upstairs, clothing having been discarded along the way. Harry rested his head on Snape's chest, Lupin at his back, and Snape leaning against Lupin.

"So, take it you're not throwing us out after all then?" Harry said drowsily. Snape shrugged.

"I suppose I can put up with you both being here for the foreseeable future."

"Minor point, Severus, but I do have a small son to get back to," Lupin pointed out. "At some point I will have to go back and take him off his grandmother's hands."

"I need to write to Ron and Hermione as well," said Harry. "I should make sure they know I'm alright and not dead or anything. But we'll both come back and see you as often as we can," he added hastily, sensing Snape tense up.

"I'm sure we can work something out," said Lupin reassuringly. "We've all dealt with far worse than this and survived, after all."

Snape didn't answer; but he did tighten his grip on them both.

"You're alive," Harry said softly. "You're both alive. The war's won, we made it through and we're here, now, alive, and we've got each other. That's got to be worth it, right?"

"It's worth it," Lupin agreed. Snape didn't say anything; but the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth said it all. Grinning, Harry ducked beneath the covers. Maybe there was time for another go before they had to leave.

~~~~~

Smiling, Narcissa Malfoy sat back from the crystal ball. As one of the only ones who knew where Spinner's End was, she'd been nominated to scry and see if help were needed. That and the only crystal ball any of them could get hold of at short notice was a Black family heirloom that only a Black could use, which was why Ron and Hermione were clustered in Grimmauld Place's study, watching Narcissa stare into the ball.

"Well?" Ron demanded, arms folded. "Is he alright? What's Snape doing to him? Did Lupin get there in time?"

"He's fine, you could say that, yes, and I'm not sure you really want to know what Snape's doing to him," Narcissa replied, rubbing her eyes. "Lord, but that's murder on the eyes. Do any of you have a pain-reliever to hand?"

Hermione passed over a couple of Muggle painkillers and a bottle of mineral water. "You use the water to wash the tablets down," she added helpfully as Narcissa stared at them dubiously.

"Needs must," Narcissa grimaced, swallowing the pills and shuddering violently. "My god, these are foul. Although not as bad as some potions I have had, it must be said." She consumed more of the water. "Allow me to allay your fears. All three appear to have resolved their differences and seem quite happy. I daresay they will return in their own good time, although how Dromeda is going to react to this, I have no idea. I think I will let Lupin break that news to her on his own."

"What news?" Ron and Hermione asked in unison. Narcissa smiled coldly.

"How well do you know Harry?"

"Well enough," said Ron gruffly. "He tells us everything."

"Including that his preference would appear to be for his own sex?" Narcissa noted the lack of surprise on their features. "Apparently so."

"Hold on," said Hermione. She was invariably much quicker on the uptake than Ron, particularly where relationships were concerned, and this was no exception. "Are you telling me he's involved with one of them?" She noted the small smile and raised eyebrow and hastily revised her initial assumption. "With both of them?"

"Oh god," Ron moaned. "You mean to tell me I've got Snape as a best mate-in-law?" He sank into the nearest chair, his head in his hands. "Hermione. Kill me. This is the worst thing that could have happened to me. I mean, I'm glad he's happy and all, but Harry's taste in men is just rubbish."

Hermione wisely decided it was time to see Narcissa out so she could talk Ron round in private.

"I'm sorry about Ron - he does tend to overreact to these things," Hermione apologised.

"Oh don't apologise - I find it rather entertaining," Narcissa said, amused. "After that little display, I can hardly wait to see his reaction when he finds out his sister's accepted a date with my son. Goodbye, Hermione."

"Bye," said Hermione, closing the door in a daze. This certainly wasn't the post-war future she'd seen coming... but then again, she'd never had much faith in Divination anyway.

"Here's to the unexpected," she whispered. Far away in a small terrace in Yorkshire, Harry was thinking much the same thing.


End file.
